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But that was what I wanted, wasn’t it? She would be better off.
“Sometimes if a conversation is difficult to have, it’s because it’s the wrong one to be having.” I started for the control panel again, needing to get away from her, cursing myself for having stopped the elevator to begin with.
“I told my parents about Jax.”
I tipped my head forward, closing my eyes briefly as my fingers hovered in front of the control panel.
“My dad was about to take his shotgun to the hospital and finish Jax off, but I managed to stop him.” She faked a laugh as if the whole thing was at all funny. The sound of her laughter was still one of the sweetest noises I’d ever heard.
“He sounds like a good man.” I straightened my spine and exhaled.
“Yeah, well, he understood why you . . . you know—did what you did.” She cleared her throat, and I turned back around and looked at her. Her green eyes became glossy, her lips quivering. “I’m sorry I asked you to leave. I was confused and a little scared.” Her chest rose and fell in soft breaths beneath her creamy silk blouse.
I didn’t know what to say. Was she trying to make up with me? She’d moved out of the hotel, and she was planning to move back home. What did she want from me? I kept my lips shut tight.
“You fought this weekend?”
I looked up at the ceiling toward the sound of the alarm. “This damn noise . . .” Irritated and in need of escape, I jabbed at the button, and we began to descend again.
“Yeah, I fought,” I finally answered as the doors parted. I held them open again, this time to allow her to leave.
But she didn’t move an inch, so I exited.
“I don’t want you to hate me.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her as she bit her lip, her eyes pulling me in.
“I could never hate you, Anna,” I said slowly and then left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ADAM
I curled my fingers into my palms, loosening them up, stretching the thin, black leather gloves.
I cracked my neck and brought my guard up as I locked eyes on my sparring partner.
Jab.
Hook.
Elbow.
Shin kick.
Repeat.
Jab.
Hook.
Elbow.
Shin kick.
Repeat.
After an hour of training, my body was on autopilot. I felt the instructions commanding me in repetition, like the voice on a record where the needle was stuck—skipping and jumping back to the same phrase, over and over again.
